All the songs in this playlist are my originals, for better or worse. If you like anything and want the chords/lyrics, shoot me a message and I can send them along.

All My Original Songs

How We Talk To Ghosts demo

For Matthew Hurley, with endless thanks to his sister Melissa for her inimitable portrait of St. Matthew

There Goes St. Matthew first take demo

May Day

Polaroid

Almost New Nashville

Small Stage w/ fiddle

Rhinestone Babylon 

Trucker

Don’t You Hear Me?

They Say


Verse 1
C/B->C
They say
You left home and you never looked back
With your
Sheepskin and your gunnysack
They was
Waving at you, you was waving back
Am->C
But who was leaving 
Was it them or you?
G->F->C
They say eyes straight ahead but
everybody’s looking in the rear view

Verse 2
They say you
Traded the small town for the city lights
Beverly Hills and private flights
So bright you couldn’t sleep at night
But so dark 
it was all you wanted to do
They say eyes straight ahead but
Everybody’s looking in the rearview 

Chorus:
Am
Coming home
C
Can make you sick
Am
Roll the windows down
F->C
Boy this is it
Am
Carolina pines
C
Condominium mists
G
Ghost towns 
Am
Where you used to live
G
Ghost towns
C
Where you used to live

Verse 3
Now you
Roll around in your brother’s car
Take the
Back way to the little bar
Where they
Still think they know who you are
But you don’t 
And heaven help em if they do
They say eyes straight ahead
But everybody’s just looking in the rear view

Chorus

Verse 4
Road soda 
And a joint in hand
Hallelujah 
and God’s plan
Headstones
And the progress of man
Some make it back
Some never do
Old boy it’s eyes straight ahead
Don’t look back in the rearview 

Chorus

Verse 5
Now you’re 
Back on the road out of town
Wheels up 
and the pedal down
So fast 
You can’t turn back around
So slow
It’s all you can do
To keep your eyes straight ahead
Not look back at the ghost looking at you

They Say

I grew up in Myrtle Beach, SC, known as the Lowcountry, where we were raised on Beach Music like the Tams, the Catalinas, the Fantastic Shakers, Band of Oz, and General Johnson and the Chairmen of the Board. It was the finest blend of rock n roll, r&b, and country music I could imagine, and it still captures me every time I put it on and takes me back to time spent driving up and down the Carolina coast on Highway Seventeen from Little River all the way to Bluffton. This is what happens when I get homesick and start playing by the fire…feel free to shag, if the spirit moves you

Capo 1

Chorus
F-A #, F-A#
Low country, hi-igh cotton
F-A#-G
A Carolina moon, feet hanging off the dock and some
Budweisers (tall boys), top-siders
A Little
Jimmy buffet on the radio

Verse 1

Start out
 in Little River 
In late September 
Take Ocean Drive to places
Only we remember 
Carolinas, 1989
Hurricane parties
Hugo on our minds…
Trynta get 
down to Bluffton
up to Mellencamp’s house
Fire off some cherry bombs
Singing Hey John Check it out
Seventeen, 
set of wheels and a dream
Might break your heart
But it won’t cost a thing

Pre Chorus
C—A#-G-A#
Whatever it is, whatever it was
Whatever it will be, 
Tonight it’s just us, out in the

Chorus
F-A #, F-A#
Low country, hi-igh cotton
F-A#-G
A Carolina moon, feet hanging off the dock and some
Budweisers (tall boys), top-siders
Little
Jimmy buffet (Marshall Tucker, Hootie blowin’)on the radio

Verse 2
Garden City, surfside 
Ain’t no Pavilion 
but we can still take a ride 
Down to
Murrels Inlet 
Edisto
Myrtle Beach Days on the 
FM radio
Breezing through 
Pawleys Island
Where the water meets the dry land
Lose ourselves in the inlet
Might be a while and
Atalaya,
Places we ain’t been yet
Higher than a King Tide
Lower than a sunset

Verse 3
I worked my
Tail off, busted my ass
Did a bit of smuggling, 
Ran my share of grass
All the way from 
The Purple Gator to Folly Beach
Warm smell of culitas
Never far out of reach
Mother Ocean, Father Highway
Route Seventeen 
Palmetto nights they
Roll by like 
Trains in the distance
Southbound, whistling
High summer, gone in an instant

Low country, high cotton
Something’s are better not forgotten
Kings highway, copperline and pine trees
My Rama lama, baby, oh oh oh oh
Right beside me

Got a little change in my pocket 
Going jingalingaling
Want to call you on the telephone
Tell you to meet me at the creek

Low Country, High Cotton

I had originally intended for this to be a piano song, but the only thing that can make me sound like a guitar wizard is hearing my piano chops, so…guitar it is!

No Words

And now for something completely different…I rarely write slow songs, but I’ve been wanting to play around with slower tempos and lingering silences, as well as longer held notes. But I had no idea while recording this that it was going to be eight minutes long, it certainly didn’t feel that long while I was playing it. Perhaps there is some fat here that can be trimmed? Still, I am pleased with the tempo and the silences, if you are too, let me know

All The Time

v.I
Runnin’
Don’t know where I’m going
All I know is just where I’ve been
I’ve been burnin’
This blue flame
In my heart
Just for you

c.
No I,
No I,
No I,
No I.

v.II
Tryin’
Not to be so damn lonesome
But it’s hard
When you’re all by yourself
Cryin’
I left you in pain
But now
Who’s to blame?

c.
Not I,
Not I,
 Not I,
Not I.

v.III
‘Cause I’m bound to get low
and I’m bound to get tight
You got to stick around
‘Cause only you can
get me right
c. 
Get me right,
Get me right,
Get me right,
Get me right.

Music and lyrics by Kevin Smith

Runnin'

Hey Bob Dylan

I.
G 
Hey Bob Dylan,
C.               G
do I ever cross your mind?
G
Have I ever been on yours 
C                 D 
like you been on mine?
C.                           Em
been thinking bout woody at greystone
G.                                                C
How you must have eased his mind
G.               Em
Hey Bob Dylan, 
D.                           G
laughing as the trains go by

II.
G
Hey Bob Dylan, 
C.                    G
man you tangled me up good
G
Having Visions of Johanna, 
C.                       D 
working in the old northwoods,
C.                                      Em
Thought I might find you down in Mobile
G.                                      C
With a parrot that talks but I never could
G.                       Em
Hey Bob Dylan 
D                                   G
don’t think twice, man, it’s all good 

III.
G
Hey Bob Dylan, 
C.                          G
wiggle wiggle- what the hell?
G.                                           
Slow train coming, hard rain 
C.                           D
falling, yeah I can tell
C.                                Em        
Do you desire a salvation, 
G.                          C
come back home An infidel?
G.                     Em
Hey Bob Dylan, I don’t know you, 
D.                         G
but you know me well

IV.
G
Hey Bob Dylan, 
C.                        G
you got a lot of nerve
G
Maybe Ramblin jack and van ronk 
C.                                 D
never got what they deserved
C.                           Em
Your Judas kiss, your pillbox hat, 
G.                                     C
all the bridges that you burned
G.                       Em
Hey Bob Dylan, 
D.                     G
rolling stone, turn and turn

V.
G
Hey Bob Dylan
C.                          G
I got stuck in a series of dreams 
G
In Tangier, and old Algiers, 
C.                                      D
I know you know what I mean
C.                          Em
Brownsville girl hanging on my arm, 
G.                      C
not dark yet But I can see
G.                       Em
Hey Bob Dylan, in the mirror, 
D.                         G
is that you or is it me?

VI.
G
Hey Bob Dylan
C.                       G
I think I seen a shooting star
G
Mr. jones and Gregory peck
C.                             D
Riding highway 61 in a stolen car
C.                         Em
Thought of you and Lanois 
G.                                     C
Heard rolling thunder in a parish bar
G.                        Em
Hey Bob Dylan it don’t matter 
D.                          G
where I go there you are

VII.
G
Hey Bob Dylan 
C.                                  G
Can I talk to you real quick?
G
Turned around, saw jokers and clowns,
C.                             D
My own reflection made me sick
C.                                              Em
Now was it John the Baptist or Abraham 
G.                         C
who pulled that trick?
G.                        Em
Hey Bob Dylan, hey Houdini,
D.                         G
Subterranean and homesick VIII.
G
Hey Bob Dylan in the basement 
C.                            G
Motorcycle in the yard 
G
Train keeps running on bloodied tracks
C.                                        D
Well it all came down so hard
C.                         Em
Meet me in the morning 
G.                         C
up at greystone In a stolen car
G.                         Em
Hey Bob Dylan, woody’s waiting
D.                     G
Up ahead but not too far

IX.
G
Hey Bob Dylan I been wondering 
C.                             G
Bout your Spanish leather boots
G
Bout the two guns that you carry
C.                              D
One that sings and one that shoots
C.                          Em
Bout a machine that kills fascists
G.                          C
And Pat Garrett too
G.                         Em
Hey Bob Dylan I been wondering 
D.                          G
Bout Billy 4 and Spanish boots

Verses X-XVII would not fit here, write me and I will send them to you

Hey, Bob Dylan

v.I
Been sleeping in the snow
Been sleepin in the hail
Laying in my bed of roses
This bed of nails
Just some small time rhinestone cowboy
Boots for sale
Heart like a hotel 
And hands on the wheel

c.
So come on baby, ‘cause we’re almost New Nashville
Just cross the border, out of this town, out of this hell
I’ll pick you up from your mansion on a hill
Come on baby ‘cause we’re almost New Nashville

v.II
You in the moonlight
Don’t need no one’s permission
Turn this town on its head turning out your superstition
Whole county’s got a fever but they ain’t got no ambition
Just this one-way ticket to perdition

c.

v.III
Born from the ashes of the night’s last cigarette
I do my best James Dean but you take what you can get
Ain’t seen our names in neon, don’t want no Lear jet
Don’t mean we won’t ever see it, just means we ain’t seen it yet

c.


All lyrics and music by Kevin Smith, (c) 2013

v.I
Can you sing with me Willie Nelson?
Will you strum with me John Prine?
I ain’t got no crowds comin’
Just keepin’ busy, killin’ time
Will you dance with me Ginger Rogers?
Can you lead me through the air?
Ain’t got no rhythm in my two left feet
Sure as Hell ain’t no Fred Astaire

c.
But when the room goes dark
Somebody light a spark
And put your lighters in the air
Even if it’s just you and me
It’s still plain to see
There’s legends here
Got out lighters in the air

v.II
Sing me a story Lyle Lovett
Got that TVZ on my mind
Jeff Tweedy stayed there with me when
Uncle Tupelo lost his mind
I heard that Grievous Angel
Had dried out in a Whiskeytown
And I played that Cripple Creek Ferry 
The night they drove Old Dixie Down

c.

v.III

Will you sing with me Bob Dylan?
Will you strum with me John Prine?
Someone tell Little Feat I’m willin’
Got my weeds, my whites, my wine

All lyrics and music by Kevin Smith, (c) 2013

Lighters in the Air

This track is from the album About a Girl and is available for purchase on CD Baby here: http://www.cdbaby.com/cd/kevinsmith

Song for Tara

Who titles a song "Buckets"?  Well, I do.  It's one of those turns of phrases I love..."Is it coming down there? Oh yeah, it's raining buckets."  Some of my favorite songs seem to begin like this, by taking a favorite phrase or word (I'm thinking of John Prine's "Big Old Goofy World" which is full of such turns of phrase, or Dylan's "Simple Twist of Fate"), so I thought I'd try my hand at it. Plus, I like the way it starts out sounding spiteful (I hope it's raining where you are...buckets) but then turns that a bit because the person it's directed towards actually loves the rain, so it isn't spiteful. 

Buckets

This is your brain.  This is your brain on Ken Burns.

G.                       C
Reveille sounds like a funeral fugue
G                            Am
Fathers and sons, grays and the blues
G.                           C
Pistol on my thigh, shaking in my boots
Em                 G.              C.               G
Wondering if I'll ever be coming home to you
Repeat Em. G. Am   G
Seen Sherman's sentinels marking the horizon line
When I woke from my dreams with my head on fire
Up in the saddle, gone before dawn
The blues and the grays, and the red coming on...
F.                          C.            G
And if you see me, in the arms of angels
F.                           Am.            G
Or in the darkness as it comes on at night
F.                    C.           Em.     G
Please remember the color of my eyes
F.        Am.        G
Not these blues and grays
That washed away our lives
No tears for generals when they fall
Not Nathan Bedford Forrest 
Not old Stonewall
Not us grant, not Robert e lee
Not a goddamn one
Gonna keep you from me
Coming over Cold Mountain
When the snow lays cold
Cross the Cumberland river
When the ice takes hold
Remembering you in your
Handsewn dress
Grays and blues in the houndstooth checks

The Wilderness still haunts my nights
By cannonball and firelight
Rebel yells and union songs
The sound and the fury of a thing gone wrong
Poor mans fight, rich mans war
We gave it all til we could give no more
And if a bullet should take me home
Remember you my love are never alone

All music and lyrics by Kevin Smith, (c)2013

Original: Blues and Grays at Kevin's House of Civil War Epics

Garnet and black til I’m out on my back, baby!
With exactly zero apologies to Clemson fans…

G D Am D
GDAmCD
C:
True palmetto, no regrets
No promises I should have kept
Just ones that maybe I ain't
 made Good on yet
I got my feet out the window, my head in the clouds
Looking down the road, my radio up loud
True palmetto rooted in this solid ground
V:
I got the garnet and black across my back
Got the whole word spelled on my Gamecocks hat
(cause only Yankees advertise that they ain't got game, like that)
And the only purple I wear is on the side
Of a crown royal bag, I caint hide
The fact that I ain't got no Tiger pride
Instrumental
V:
They say I might kill myself  setting out with a beer
And sitting in the summer sun
But honey they can keep talking I ain't worried
Cause I know only the good die young
Just get me down 17, Past the garden city pier
I know a little drinking village where we can always get a beer
They might have a fishin problem but theyre always glad to see me when I'm here
C
V:
Call up my brother, load the dogs in the truck
We Calling in sick, cause we don't give a fuck
If it don't get done today, it'll still get done
Cause like bear said when mama calls, you come running
And the Lowcountry's calling like it's always known I'd be coming
Home again,  mama here I come
C:
V:
Lets Roll that number, smoke it to the head
There's a crescent moon shining, We got the beach for our bed
but we ain't sleeping, there'll be time for that when we're dead
no tonight we're running  til we get to Brookgreen
Past them moss covered arms of them low hanging dreams
And when we get to Atalaya, I'm getting down on bended knee

C:

All music and lyrics by Kevin Smith, (c) 2013

True Palmetto

Verse 1:
She's always singin'
A sad song
She tells me nothin'
When I ask her what's wrong?
But she's no liar
And it don't take long
Before she's singin'
Another sad song
Baby's got a radio
And she keeps it on
Specially in the evening
And just before dawn
When the light's uncertain
And the shadows grown long
She's always singin'
A sad song

Chorus:
And I know it don't make no sense
Sometimes
That's just the way it is
Sign of the times?
But I promise you this
No lies
And all I can give
My life

Verse 2:
With the snow falling down
she says there's no good songs
About winter
Unless you like Christmas songs
And I don't
She said I think that's the
Saddest thing ever
I should write a song about
That but I won't
Drive to work in the morning
With the headlights on
Home in the rearview
It's just going going gone
How come songs about hometowns
Are always the saddest ones?
She always asks around midnight
And how come we sing along?


Verse 3:
She's always singing
A sad song
Every time I come around
She says baby it ain't you it's
Just the sound of thunder
Is such an awful lone some sound
And I feel like singin'
A sad song
with you right by my side
Cause a sad song
Ain't always a bad thing
And that's the way i feel tonight

All lyrics and music by Kevin Smith, (c)2013

She's Always Singing (A Sad Song)

G                                                    Em
The rose is such a beautiful flower, they say
                                    C                                         Am
That when you’re cut by the thorns you don’t mind the way
That the blood runs down your arms
Let the blood run down your arms

And love is such a powerful feeling, they say
That when you’re cut to the bone you don’t mind anyway
That the blood runs down your arms
Just let the blood run down your arms


DCGEm
Am-C-G
C: And though you reached for the blossom, you were cut by the thorns
And you made yourself a crown of all the scars that you’ve worn
But what you gonna do with all them scars when you get home?
 And what you gonna do with all them thorns that you kept
Locked inside a safe deep inside your chest?
Baby what’s the treasure in being alone?

And blood is so much thicker than water, they say
That you can live through the tears if you can survive the way
That the blood runs down your arms
That the blood runs down your arms

And time is such a powerful healer they say
That though you cry for ten years it still finds a way
As the blood runs down your arms
As the blood runs down your arms

DCGEm
Am-C-G
C:And though you stand by the grave, and read from the stone
You can’t believe that this is the way you came home
But baby, what did you think, that time would stand still?
You cant go home again, or so they say
Just look homeward angel, it’s better that way
Cause time is just waitin’, movin’ in for the kill…

All lyrics and music by Kevin Smith, (c) 2013

Let The Blood Run

CT/SC...Originals,Covers,General Acoustic Hackery 
Lo Fi for the By and By, Mixtapes and Campfires

All my original songs, as well as all covers, are grouped in Playlists. Some of the playlists were created as albums (A Field Guide To Pagan Saints demos) of rough home recordings, and some are grouped according to genre/artist.

If you like any of the originals and want to cover them, have at it! Just make sure you give proper attribution AND let me know- I'd love to hear them!

Sometimes the missus joins me with her fiddle, and the dogs and the kids and the general jubilee provide ambiance, but for the most part these tracks are just me. 

All tracks posted here are recorded (rather poorly) on my iPhone using the Voice Memo app, with the exception of the About A Girl album tracks (grouped in a set), which were recorded in the studio and released by Crafty Records. So, they're all demo quality and, while they may not be the prettiest, they sure are real!

All My Original Songs

A Boy & His Washburn